


A Dream Deferred

by p1013



Series: Kinkuary 2021 [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Bondage, Criminal Draco Malfoy, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Suspension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p1013/pseuds/p1013
Summary: When does getting tired of running turn into a desire to be caught?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Kinkuary 2021 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140512
Comments: 26
Kudos: 185
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	A Dream Deferred

**Author's Note:**

> Day 16 - Roleplay

Draco's sitting in a corner booth. The lights are low, and the pub is cloudy with cigarette smoke and the humidity of too many people in too small of a space. He hadn't come out with the intention of finding a mark, but as the night wore on and the alcohol did little to tame the restlessness in his fingertips, Draco figured a little light lifting wouldn't hurt anyone.

He's grabbed two wallets and a watch so far, and he's halfway through taking a woman's mobile from where it hangs out of her too-small back pocket when he feels eyes on him. Moving his hand away carefully, he puts it by his side and takes a step away.

Then another and another until he's on his way to the back door of the pub and, hopefully, freedom.

The alley is empty, and Draco's nearly halfway down it when the door slams open behind him. He curses, then starts running.

"Stop!" The voice echoes against the brick walls, followed by pounding footsteps as Draco's pursuer sprints after him. "I said stop!"

Cursing, Draco turns left, then right, looking around for another place where he can hide or lose his tail. But the man chasing him is fast, and Draco's made a misstep somewhere along the way because he's in a fenced in alley, and there's no way he's going to scale the chain link fence before his pursuer catches up.

So, Draco does what he always does in these situations and decides to brazen it out. Though he's a bit out of breath, and he really doesn't have the time for it, he takes out a cigarette and lights it with a bit of wandless magic. He's barely gotten half of an inhale when the man appears around the corner.

Draco laughs, and smoke curls from his lips. "Potter. Of bloody course."

The man stumbles at his name, then stills in the mouth of the alley. "Wait, Malfoy?"

"Pleasure is all mine," Draco says before taking another drag. "You out slumming it tonight, or were you looking for me specifically?"

"I saw someone trying to lift a mobile, and I went after them." He takes another step forward. "You're in a lot of trouble, Malfoy."

He laughs, and this time the smoke in his lungs stings. "I am more than aware."

"Grand larceny, breaking and entering, illegal possession of an unregistered wand, and that's just the six months after the war."

Draco finishes his cigarette, then drops it to the ground before stamping it out. "You forgot murder."

"No." He takes another step closer and flicks his wrist, sending his wand falling neatly into his palm. "I didn't."

"I don't know what you think you're going to do here, Potter. I may not have a wand anymore, but I've learned more than my fair share of tricks while on the run. I'm not letting you take me in."

"It's funny that you think you've got a choice."

Potter moves like lightning. A quick strike, too fast for Draco's eyes to make out except for the shadow he leaves behind. A spell slashes over Draco's shoulder, and he falls into a body roll. The asphalt tears against his shoulder, and there's blood dripping down his upper arm as he scrambles to his feet. For a moment, he thinks there's enough space between the wall and Potter that Draco could dart past him, but then Potter's screaming " _Incarcerous_!" and ropes spring towards Draco like coiled snakes.

Cursing, he throws his arm out, casting unruly flames that engulf the ropes and devour them. Potter laughs, high and bright, then hits Draco with a Stunner that leaves his head aching and his body limp and unmoving.

A moment later, ropes tangle around Draco's wrists and body, pinning his arms to his sides. He thrashes against them, hoping something might give, but Potter's magic is as strong as ever, and while Draco manages to roll onto his back instead of his front, he's no closer to escape than he had been when first chased after him.

"If you had any idea how many times I've imagined this," Potter says, panting. "You've no idea."

Draco twists and writhes against the ropes. "Fuck you, Potter."

It makes the man laugh. His wand motion is almost lazy when he casts _Leviosa_ , and Draco drifts up from the cold, wet ground in a smooth, easy motion. His feet hover over the ground in a facsimile of standing, but his weight is fully supported by the spell.

Potter sets Draco spinning, slow and smooth. "You've been running for years, Malfoy. No one's been able to find you, to get a bead on your trail. Ever since your father died, you've been like a ghost. Everyone told me to give up, to let it go." His smile is a brutal thing, his teeth gleaming like fangs in the dark. "But I never did. And now, I've got you."

"You think these ropes will hold me? That I can't get out if I really want to?"

Potter draws him closer, and Draco's feet drag against the pavement. He feels Potter's words against his face when he speaks. "I think, Draco Malfoy, that if you wanted to be free, you would be."

Potter's eyes drop to Draco's mouth, then lower. "You know," he says, his voice growing as dark as the night around them, "I'm not unreasonable."

"I haven't hurt anyone since I left," Draco grits through his teeth. "I just want to be left alone."

"Of course. No one's hurt when their wallet goes missing."

"I return them."

"A few pounds lighter. Maybe their Oyster card is missing, maybe a coupon for a free coffee or sandwich. Maybe their ID."

"No one gets _hurt_."

Potter laughs. His eyes stay on Draco's mouth. "No, I suppose not. You're not a bad guy, are you, Malfoy? You can be good."

Draco knows what Potter's intimating, knows the direction this could go. "What're you suggesting, Potter?"

"I've got something you want, don't I?" Potter's wand twirls through his fingers, and the ropes around Draco's chest tighten, then ease. "And you've got something I want. Something I've wanted for a long time."

Draco's cock jumps at the heat in Potter's words, in the way his eyes linger on Draco's mouth and the pulse fluttering at his throat.

"So what're you suggesting, Potter?"

His hand on Draco's face is rough and confident. He tilts Draco's head up, forcing him to meet Potter's bright green eyes. "A trade."

It's like the world pauses around them. The moment drags on, Potter's words ringing through Draco's head. His arms ache from the ropes, and his neck is starting to twinge as Potter's grip tightens. But underneath it all — under the pain, the fear, the dread — there's a frisson of excitement, of want.

"Okay." The word feels distant, as if someone else said it rather than Draco. But Potter's smile widens, and Draco knows he's sealed his own fate with those two syllables. 

If he thought that this would be a soft, gentle thing, Potter quickly disabuses him of that notion. He doesn't let Draco go, just levitates him over to the closest wall and pushes Draco against it. Potter bites at the nape of his neck, then licks over the sting. 

It shouldn't feel as good as it does.

"All those years," Potter says as he reaches around Draco's front to open his fly and yank his trousers and pants down, "all those years at Hogwarts, I thought of this. Thought of your arse and my cock buried inside of it."

The levitation spell ends, and Draco nearly scrapes his face against the brick wall. Potter kicks his legs apart, and though his clothes keep Draco from spreading them as wide as they can go, it's enough room for Potter's hand to find Draco's crease and the pucker of his hole. His fingers are rough and broad, and when he breaches Draco with the tip of one, it stings.

It feels incredible.

Draco's cock hardens as Potter pulls his hand away. He spits, and the sound shouldn't be erotic, but it is. When Potter's fingers return, they're wet and insistent.

"God, every time you opened that bloody mouth of yours, I wanted to shut you up with my cock in your mouth. Wanted to fuck the spoiled brat right out of you. And now," — another meaningful twist of his fingers, wrenching a cry from Draco's throat — "I'm going to fuck you raw."

Gods help him, but Draco tilts his hips so that Potter can get deeper inside of him, can brush his fingers against the bundle of nerves that light Draco up inside. When Potter scissors his fingers apart, Draco keens, head thrown back, chest against the brick, cock hard and leaking.

"Tell me you want it," Potter says as he does it again. "Tell me how much you want my cock, Malfoy."

"Fuck, Potter." He cants his hips back again, chasing pleasure. "Just fuck me already."

Potter brushes his fingers against Draco's prostate, then pushes hard against it until he's writhing and cursing into the wall. "Not until you're begging for it."

"Never," Draco snarls, though his body betrays him. "Take what you want, Potter. Take me."

Potter leans in and bites at Draco's ear. "Say please."

The hand that's not currently pistoning into Draco's arsehole reaches around and clamps around Draco's cock, and though he doesn't want to, though he'd rather eat his own tongue, Draco cries out. "Oh, fuck, Potter. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, you utter sadist."

Laughing, Potter takes both of his hands away. Draco wants to curse at the loss, but before he can, Potter's cock is against his hole and pushing its way inside.

It's not enough prep. Draco's not ready to take it. It's too much like pain, too much like pleasure, and as Potter plows his way into Draco's body, he loves every aching inch of it.

Potter's hips press against Draco's arse, and he stays there for a long moment, both of them breathing heavily into the cool night air. Potter's mouth brushes against Draco's neck, and as he shivers from the caress, Potter pulls back, then slams inside.

His pace is brutal, efficient. Potter hits Draco's prostate every fucking time, like he knows exactly what he's doing, like he knows exactly how to wipe away any and all shame Draco might be feeling.

He's tied up. He's hobbled by his own clothes. He's on the run.

He's never been so fucking free.

"You should see how well you take me," Potter pants. "You should see the way your arse opens up around me. God, it's beautiful. You're fucking made for this. Made to be fucked."

Draco groans. If it didn't feel so damned good, he'd be embarrassed at how close he is to coming. 

Potter's hands on Draco's hips tighten. "I'm going to fill you up." Tighter. "I'm going to come so deep inside of you, you'll be carrying me around with you for fucking days."

"Fuck, Potter." He can't hold back the needy moans pouring from his mouth. His cock, still untouched, twitches meaningfully. "Oh, fuck."

Potter thrusts once, twice, and then Draco's coming so hard, his vision whites out.

"That's right," Potter grunts. "Come on my cock, Draco. Let me hear you."

"Shit." His knees lock. "Ah, shit, Harry. Fuck."

"That's it." Another brutal thrust, and then Harry's mouth is on Draco's shoulder, his teeth biting down. "Ah, love. Draco."

Harry's thrusts go uneven, slow, until they're both still and panting against the brick wall. There's a long moment of quiet between them, and then Draco groans.

"Can you get me out of this bloody _Incarcerous_ already? I know you've got a bondage kink, but my shoulders are killing me."

Harry groans, but a moment later, the ropes disappear. His hands rub at the indents where they used to be, and he presses a gentle kiss to Draco's nape. "Was I too rough with you?"

"I always want you to be rough with me when we do these things, Harry. I thought you'd caught on by now."

Laughing, he kisses Draco's nape again, then pulls out. It makes the both of them groan. Draco winces, then sighs when Harry presses his fingers against Draco's sore and puffy hole. Harry's magic is cool and gentle as he heals the abused flesh.

"We're getting a bit old for this," Harry says as he falls back. "Did you really steal a bunch of wallets?"

Draco laughs, then bends down to pull his pants and trousers up. "Maybe."

"God, you are incorrigible. Remind me why I married you again?"

"Because," Draco says as he ducks in for a teasing kiss, "you like to be kept on your toes."

Harry chuckles. "Maybe I just like you."

"Who wouldn't?"

The slap against his arse leaves Draco laughing and dancing away from Harry. Grinning, he spins around in time to catch the smug grin on Harry's face as he does up his fly.

"Well, Auror Potter?" Draco says, eyeing the exit of the alley. "You think you can catch me?"

"I'll be chasing after you for the rest of my life." Harry's hand tightens on his wand.

Draco blows him a kiss. "Good thing I want to be caught."

**Author's Note:**

> I am having so much fun with this. Thank you to all of you lovely readers for your support. ❤❤❤
> 
> The title is borrowed from Harlem by the incredible Langston Hughes.


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